


Just What I Needed

by Mntn_Child



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Also too many mentions of Minecraft, Anathema Adam and Aziraphale are siblings, Angst, Closeted Aziraphale, Editor Aziraphale, F/M, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, Let me know if I need to add more tags please, M/M, Minor Injuries, No Beta, Past Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens), Title from a song by The Cars, do with that what you will, this is my first fic sO
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29660520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mntn_Child/pseuds/Mntn_Child
Summary: Aziraphale is coming back to his hometown of Tadfield after his ex boyfriend Gabriel tells him to leave their shared apartment in London. Maybe he'll meet someone in town who will help remind him that things will turn out ok.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Just What I Needed

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, hope you enjoy! I know it's got issues, but eh. I'm a growing human, I'll learn eventually. Oh, please for the love of someone, let me know if I need to tag anything else. I'd really hate to not tag something hurtful. Uh, theres some scene where Aziraphale nicks himself with a knife while he and his mom are cooking. Also, it seems like Aziraphale has some internalized homophobia. He's just not ready to come out of the closet, but those can sometimes read very similar, so I tagged it anyway.

Aziraphale stepped outside of the passenger’s seat of Newt’s pale blue car, stretching his arms above his head after the long ride. He breathed in deeply, smelling the cold and sweet scent of decay that meant it was November in his hometown of Tadfield. It felt right somehow to be at the end of the long gravel driveway leading to his family’s two story brick home. It was an old home, with ivy climbing up the walls and leafless apple trees peeking out from behind the backyard fence. 

“Thank you ever so much for the ride back home,” Aziraphale told his friend, smiling at him gratefully before stepping around to the back of the car to grab the first of several containers that held all of his earthly possessions. 

“It was no problem, really. Your house is on the way to mine after all.” Newt paused, looking in his rearview mirror at the way his friend was struggling with a large box. “Need a hand?”

“That would be greatly appreciated, if it isn’t to much trouble of course,” Aziraphale said, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. 

Newt stepped out of his car and grabbed one end of the box while Aziraphale positioned himself on the other end. Together, they lifted it out of the trunk and started walking towards the steps at the front door. Once there, they dropped the box unceremoniously while Aziraphale knocked with the large and rather ugly brass knocker screwed onto the middle of the door. It wasn’t very long before he heard the sound of small feet running towards the door, which was promptly thrust opened before Aziraphale found himself wrapped into a hug by what appeared to be a chest high mass of brown curls.

“Adam! It’s so good to see you dear,” the blonde young man said with a smile on his face, hugging his little brother tightly. “I’ve missed you, how have you been?”

“I’ve missed you too! I’m good, but Pepper won all my netherite in a bet a few minutes ago. Do you wanna play Minecraft with me and win it back?”

“Maybe later dear. I’ve got to move all of my things into my room right now,” Aziraphale said, looking towards Newt, who was at this point standing awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. “Adam, this is Newt, he’s a coworker from London who’s been kind enough to help me move back here for the moment.” At this, Newt gave a shy little wave at the eleven year old who was now giving him a modicum of attention. Adam grinned back.

“Nice to meet you Newt! Do you play Minecraft?”

“Well, I mean, a little bit here and there I guess…” Newt said, a little uncomfortable under the attention of the beaming boy.

“Excellent! You can be my secret weapon then,” Adam grabbed Newt’s hand, dragging him to the living room where he pushed a controller into his new friend’s hand.  
“Adam, you can’t just…. Newt you don’t have to play Minecraft with him if you don’t want to.” Aziraphale just barely restrained an embarrassed groan. His brother could be so much sometimes.

“No, it’s alright. I could use a break after driving anyway,” Newt assured his friend.

“Well, alright then. If you’re sure. I’ll just go see if my sister will help with the rest of the stuff. It shouldn’t be too hard now that we got the box books out,” Aziraphale told him, still worried about Newt being forced into playing games with his brother.

With that, Aziraphale began walking down to the end hallway, where he could hear the vaguely haunting folk music and smell the incense his sister liked so much before he even got near the door. He smiled before knocking three times loudly enough to be heard over the music. He could hear movement coming from the other side of the door before it was cracked open and he found himself looking into Anathema’s round wire-framed glasses. Grinning, she slipped out of the door before closing it discreetly behind her.

“Hey! It’s good to see you again,” Anathema said, wrapping her brother in a quick but bone crushing hug before letting go and leaning against the door frame.

“And you as well! Tell me, why the secrecy with your room?”

“There’s just an incantation I’m working on. It’s just a protection spell, but I don’t want to let anyone in until it’s ready. You know how it is.” Anathema smirked, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder.

“You know that I don’t, but I’ll leave it be. How’s school going in America?” 

“It’s good. Boring sometimes, but good. We’re off for Thanksgiving break now, and then I have finals and then if all goes well, I’ll be graduating next month,” 

“That’s excellent! So you’ll be graduating early then?” Aziraphale questioned, pride blooming in his chest for his younger sister.

“That’s the plan. So how long will you be staying here?”

Aziraphale’s smile drooped a little, just for a second. Had he been talking to anyone else, they probably wouldn’t have noticed it, but Anathema knew him a little to well.

“Well, I’m hoping to find a new place in London within walking distance of my job by New Year’s day, but well, we’ll see how it goes,” Aziraphale said, trying not to sound as miserable as he felt. Anathema reached out and squeezed his hand, offering a comforting smile.

“Well then. Enough about that,” Aziraphale said, letting go of Anathema’s hand to straighten out his already perfectly straight waistcoat, “do you mind helping me unload my things from Newt’s car. He was kind enough to give me a lift, and now Adam has kidnapped him. Poor dear.”

“Of course. Do I know Newt?” Anathema asked, looking back over her shoulder at her brother as she had already begun moving towards the front door. 

“I don’t think so dear, he’s a fellow editor at my magazine though apparently he has family on the other side of Tadfield so I suppose it’s possible you’ve met him.”

Anathema walked past the living room, her long dark dress swishing above the carpet as she walked. “Hello Newt, nice to meet you,” she said, shocking the young man sitting on the carpet and playing Minecraft. Aziraphale rolled his eyes at his sister.

“How does she know my name?” Newt asked, a little spooked and completely distracted from his game as a skelaton began shooting at his character.

“I have my ways,” Anathema said from by the front door “Let’s get going Zira.” Aziraphale shook his head at his sister’s dramatics and moved to help his sister, wincing slightly when he looked back to see that Newt’s character on the screen was dead while the man himself wore a faint smile.

***

“You know, I don’t really think you two were really friends,”

“Oh. Why is that?” Aziraphale tried hard to keep his face blank, to not let the grief show on his face at his mother’s words. He knew she really wasn’t trying to be hurtful. Dierdre Young was a marvelous women. She tried to be kind and helpful and brave, but she was also stubborn, prone to gossip, and old fashioned in ways that made it difficult for Aziraphale to open up to her. She didn’t know all of the details about what she was talking about, and there was good reason for that.

The two of them were standing together in the kitchen, and up until a few minutes ago, had been chatting amicably about this and that. She had just returned from a long walk with the local pastor, and as such had much to talk about when she arrived home to find her son had arrived while she was out. Dierdre was mixing flour, eggs, and milk while waiting for the pan to heat up, while Aziraphale busied himself with cutting up strawberries. They would be having crepes to celebrate Aziraphale’s return, and it was something that he had really been looking forward to up until his mother began talking about his old roommate, his former best friend, and his ex boyfriend, Gabriel.

“Well, he was so terribly different from you for one thing.” Dierdre stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And Aziraphale tried so hard not to think about how wonderfully handsome he was, how well organized and diligent and fashionable he was. They really were two very different people. He was…well, from Aziraphale’s perspective, he was a good bit out of his league. What had he been expecting from that relationship anyway?

“And for another, friends don’t make each other this miserable if they can help it.” His mother concluded, looking at him sympathetically. She had no idea of the romantic nature of their relationship. If she had, maybe she would have understood why he was miserable, and how it was….maybe not unavoidable, but something close to that. Aziraphale could never quite bring himself to tell her that Gabriel had once been something more than a roommate. More than a best friend. More than anything other than what he knew she would approve of.

“Well, I don’t think he really meant any harm,” the young man offered, though he hating that he felt a need to defend his old friend. What was the point? His chopping motions grew a little sloppier, and the nicely sliced strawberries were beginning to look more uneven.

“He kicked you out with very little notice. No real friend does that dear.”

Aziraphale wanted to cry now, and he wished he could explain how it was all his fault, and how there was nothing wrong with the first real love of his life. If only he hadn’t told Gabriel about his feelings, if only he could have been more attractive so that their relationship would last after Gabe and Bee had met, if only - He wasn’t paying enough attention to the strawberries he was chopping, he sliced the top of his thumb, not enough to cause real damage but enough to bleed. Now a few tears really did start to leak through, and he had a suitable excuse for them. He put his hand under the faucet, turning on the cold water as his mother, taking notice of the injury, rushed to grab the first aid kit. 

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” His mother gently pulled his hand out away from the faucet, cleaning up the minor wound before applying a band-aid covered in kittens wearing small halos. “I’ll finish up with the strawberries, you can go and sit down. After lunch if you feel up to it, would you like to come with your sister and I to the thrift store? Apparently there are some crystals she’s had her eyes on there.”

“Thank you, I think that would be rather lovely,” Aziraphale replied, taking a deep breath and trying to push any thoughts of Gabriel from his head. He rubbed a last remaining tear from his face and began walking up the stairs towards his childhood room, now filled with all of books he’d brought from his old apartment. The thrift store really was a wonderful place in Aziraphale’s opinion. He had an old-fashioned tastes in clothes, as did his sister, though neither had the budget it took to keep a closet full of new clothes made to look old. Often, they’d spend a few dollars on ill-fitting suits at the thrift store, and then go to the tailor to get their dresses and suits fitted. That always cost more than the clothes themselves, but he still ended up paying less than a tenth of what he would to get the same clothes from anywhere else. 

***  
“What do you think of this one?” Anathema asked, holding up a long white quartz.

“It’s very pretty, but I’m afraid I don’t know much about what makes a good crystal,” Aziraphale offered. It was the third crystal she had shown him, and he had given a very similar reply to all of them.

“Oh you’re no help,” Anathema sighed, turning the crystal over in her hands a few times before putting it in a shopping basket with the other two crystals. “Why don’t you check out the books if you’re going to have no opinions.”

Aziraphale shrugged and left his sister be before following her suggestion and making his way over to the bookshelves. He began skimming their contents for anything he might find interesting. While Aziraphale was fond of essentially all books, he had a real love for old books. And every once in a while, he would find a real treasure hidden in the store. He could see old bibles and yellowed copies of dime a dozen romance novels and even a few outdated textbooks. That’s when he saw it. A leather bound copy of Hamlet. It looked incredibly old and perhaps in need of minor repair, but it was far from ruined. He stared for a second to long in shock before a pale hand reached out and snatched it from the shelf. Aziraphale blinked in surprise at the man who had seemingly just appeared right next to him. Once he got over the shock at seeing another person with the book he so coveted, it took another second for him to catch his breath…. From his long red hair tied up in a messy bun, angular face hidden under dark sunglasses, and black ripped jeans….He was perfectly beautiful. Except of course for the fact that he had Aziraphale’s book that is.

“Excuse me, but I was going to get that book,” Aziraphale told the stranger, desperately. Hoping he didn’t sound incredibly petulant.

“I’m afraid it looks like I’m the one with the book though,” The red-headed fiend smirked, holding the play between two fingers and leaning against the bookshelf. Aziraphale bristled a little at his arrogance, but stood his ground.

“That is an incredibly old copy of Shakespeare’s Hamlet, and I don’t know how to stress that I would very much like to have it,” Aziraphale said, feeling his ears grow red as he recognized he was very close to begging this attractive man for a book. Oh well.

“Well then. Seems like if you’re that desperate for it, maybe we can make a little arrangement?” The man smiled, letting the light glint off his perfectly white teeth. 

Aziraphale opened his wallet, “That hardly seems fair, but I have 15 pounds on me right now if that’s what you want,”

“Ngk…no… Look I only need to pick up a Shakespeare play for the kid I’m babysitting, a family friend, he has to write a report or something,” At this the man leaned over and plucked out a paperback copy of Much Ado About Nothing. “He’s a nasty little bugger,” the stranger said fondly, “so I’m afraid he’d prefer Hamlet, but I’m sure he can settle for a comedy if you gave me your number. The comedies are better anyway” It was almost imperceptible, what with the dark glasses and comfortable attitude on the strange and lanky man, but Aziraphale could have sworn he looked a little bit nervous.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to disagree with you,” Aziraphale said slowly, and he saw the man deflate a little, “Hamlet is a personal favorite, I’d say that the bard’s tragedies are at least as good as his comedies,” At this the man seemed to look up a little with a faint but genuine smile. “Why is it that you need my number?”

“Well…uh…ngk… I’m pretty new to Tadfield and you seem….uh….you could show me around maybe…if you’d like to…” The man was clearly starting to fumble, and he looked down, scuffing his foot against the tiled floor. “Look, here’s your book, just, forget it.” He held the book out, still looking at the floor. It was clear that more than his hair was red now.

“Oh dear, please. Here’s my number, a deal is a deal after all,” Aziraphale said, and though he certainly didn’t remember agreeing to any such deal, he eagerly began scrippling on a piece of paper stuffed into his wallet. “You could have just told me you wanted someone to show you around, I would have been amenable.” He grabbed his book before pressing his number into the man’s palm while trying to suppress a slight shiver caused by the contact.

“’Course you would have,” The man said, before typing the numbers into his phone. Aziraphale felt his phone buzz in his pocket and looked to see a message from an unknown number.

Hello Angel, It’s me Crowley

He looked inquisitively at the red-head. “Why Angel?”

“Ngk…well, your thumb has that band-aid on it, and I don’t know your name exactly,” Crowley said, clearly a little embarrassed now. Aziraphale looked down to see his thumb covered by the kittens and halos baid-aid.

“Ah. I see. Well, my name is Aziraphale. Is Crowley your first name dear?” But at this moment, Dierdre decided to show up. Aziraphale’s smile froze on his face as he very much hoped his attraction wasn’t to terribly visible.

“Well, it’s time to get a move on love. Are you ready to go?” Dierdre told  
Aziraphale, her arms loaded with kitsch.

“I suppose I am. It was nice to meet you Crowley, do keep in touch.” Aziraphale told the man.

“Right. I’ll see you around then,” Crowley replied, offering a slight wave. Aziraphale hoped desperately that he’d be seeing him soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I might add on to this. Not sure. There's definitely things that could happen, but I might read this in a week and say, yeah, this gave me some seratonin while I wrote it but it's time to move on. In other words, it depends on how I feel and if I still like this later.
> 
> Feel free to leave a kudos or comment!


End file.
